


Had Some Drinks

by twoeyewink



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Bad Flirting, Confessions, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 03:30:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16590020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoeyewink/pseuds/twoeyewink
Summary: You should really keep it down when you come home drunk.





	Had Some Drinks

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a song by Two Feet. It doesn't fit the tone of this fic but it was on repeat to keep me calm when writing this.

**a/n** : I wrote this for the awesome bamby0304 in tumblr for her milestone challenge, with the prompts below. And I was drunk for the half of this fic, go figure. Enjoy!

 **bamby's triple treat challenge** :

  * a2: "I need a hug."
  * b8: "What on earth are you wearing?"
  * c9: "What did you just say?"



 

* * *

 

With your heels in hand, you tried to be quiet, closing the heavy bunker door with care but it slammed shut anyway. You frown at it but the pull of your facial muscles tickled a funny bone and you giggled as you turned to go down the stairs.

You miraculously made it to the war room without falling on your face, tripping just once or maybe thrice. The word thrice bounced around in your head, making you giggle again as you continue to the library, bare feet muted thuds on the concrete.

You see Dean with his back to you, a lazy slump in his stance telling your alcohol-hazed mind you woke him up with all your ruckus. He wasn't aware where you were, though, staying still in the middle of the two biggest tables in the library. His hands were braced on the wooden surface, hips cocked on one side against the egde.

Placing your shoes down as silently as you can, you watched the lines of his back stretch and mold the dark fabric of his shirt. The low light of the lamp played on the planes of his figure and it made some place in your chest ache. You found yourself inches from him, the ever present scent of whisky and gunpowder that clung to him invading your nose.

"Dean," you say quietly, a smile teasing the edge of your lips as you watch him start. He tensed, moving to turn around but some courage took over and you wrapped your arms around his waist. You buried your nose in the graceful dip of his spine, taking a greedy inhale. "I need a hug."

Dean tensed and embarrassment caught up to you. You rarely initiated contact with the brothers and they do the same. He was shaking now-- _oh god, oh no_. The sound of his chuckles only reached you when you were about to pull away.

"It's five in the damn morning, sweetheart. What you need sleep," he said, trying to be stern but lacking the bite in his tone.

You pouted. "I'm serious. I need some emergency hugs," you told him, slurring and mumbling into his back, splaying your hands on his firm stomach before overlapping them for a tighter hold.

He called your name and it took a second too long for you to respond, busy drowning yourself in his earthy musk underneath all his usual sharp layers. "Man, you're really drunk, aren't you?"

"Hm, I'm a woman. Get your fu- _hic-_ ckin' facts straight," you said seriously then snorted on a laugh.

You felt him pushing away from the table and you moved away, settling your ass on the table just behind you. He fully faced you, eyes widening briefly as he took you in. Or rather--

"What on earth are you wearing?"

"Um... your shirt?" You answered meekly, paling as you glanced at what used to be his plain black Led Zeppelin shirt that reached halfway down your thigh. You had cut a deep vee in the middle leaving some decorative criss-cross so it wouldn't gape open. You wore garters to hold the only lacy thigh-highs that you own tucked in your high heeled ankle boots you discarded a while back.

 _Oh,_ you thought distantly. _That's why I was trying being quiet._ You stole this shirt from the laundry room, thinking no one would miss it.

You saw his teeth grit, the line of his jaw defining from the tension. He's mad-- he looks mad.

"I'm sorry," you squeaked out, a jumble of nerves eager to please an aggravated Dean. God, you were such a sucker. "I'll buy you a new one."

His eyes settled on the cut you made all the way just shy of your ribs, his gaze darkening. The tequila shots were whispering that the heat in his gaze was something else other than anger. Whatever it was made you squirm and flush nonetheless.

"Dean?" You asked tentatively, a little hoarse from your dry throat. His head snapped up from your voice, eyes meeting yours then your lips and up to your eyes again. You saw his tongue dart out to wet his own lips and the move was so slow and sensual, it made your thigh clench.

He moved in a blur towards you and your hands shot up to brace his shoulders, belatedly realizing you met him halfway. You were mesmerized by the green of his eyes, a thin ring around the black. He was breathing deeply, the soft puffs against your lips making them part.

Dean said your name quietly, his palm warm on the nape of your neck. He was the focus of your gaze, the rest a blur around him. You were so focused on him, you didn't catch what he said.

"What?" You blurted out.

He looked surprised, then pissed as color rode high on his ridiculously chiselled cheekbones. He looked away and mumbled something.

"What did you just say?" You asked, a touch apologetic and highly amused.

He was talking under his breath again and it made you laugh, exasperated. "Speak up. You know how I hate mumbling," you qouted, watching his face cloud in confusion.

You softly giggled, snaking your fingers up his neck to tangle in his short hair. "Nevermind. Whatever you said, I agree and I like you very much. Like, _like_ like."

Dean's laugh lines deepened and he smiled fondly at you, stealing a quick peck on your lips that you tried to deepen. The height difference made it easy for him to avoid you, dropping his arms to your waist to gather you in for a bear hug.

You squealed, wriggling in protest as he hauled you high up. "I changed my mind! I need a kiss!"

His laugh reverberated through his chest. "Can't change your mind now, princess."

Sam peeped in the entryway, a sharp scowl on his face even the cozy scene can't soften. "I'm happy for you and all but you're loud, it's not even sunrise yet, and I can see y/n's thong."

The taller Winchester disappeared as fast as he showed up that when Dean hauled you up over his shoulder, it didn't even faze you.

You protested anyway, "Nooo. Let me down!" You smacked his ass but he just wiggled it at you as he carried you to his bedroom, shutting the door with his foot. He set you down near his bed and you jumped him, both of you landing on the memory foam mattress he was so proud of.

Dean rolled you under him, smiling before kissing you, pulling away before you could get some tongue action. He settled behind you, draping an arm over your waist to pull you in the curve of his body.

He pressed little kisses on the back of your neck before mumbling again.

"What?"

"I like you, too, like, _like_ like," he said in a half imitation of your declaration, pausing and you felt him smile. His hand creeping to the hem, dragging it up past your underwear. "But this is Sammy's shirt."


End file.
